


The Past Grips Us All

by Salt00



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Gen, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-24
Updated: 2016-10-24
Packaged: 2018-08-24 10:00:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8368090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salt00/pseuds/Salt00
Summary: Ben Kenobi failed to protect Luke. After 15 years doing nothing but looking after Luke from afar, he doesn't know what to do with himself now but give up. But The Force isn't done with him yet and he wakes up to find a hauntingly familiar world where the Clone War hasn't even started yet. He doesn't know what he's doing but he'll be damned again before he lets the past repeat itself.





	

15 years on Tatooine. His hair was grey, his skin wrinkled, his joints ached; he was old. The twins suns beat down on him as he looked at the impending darkness. He wasn’t far from his hovel. He could safely weather the coming storm there. He wasn’t far at all. He was tired.

Ben faced the sandstorm. He took no steps back.

A part of him thought about Luke. He tried not to pay attention to his thoughts. Instead he focused on the heavy pack on his back, filled with the usual survival necessities. The bantha fur he had gathered to trade, the Tusken sharpshooter and spear to protect himself. A small water purifier. Climbing gear.

The three lightsabers. One for the _Master Teacher Qui-Gon_ Father he failed. One for the _Student Son Anakin_ Brother he failed. One for him.

The sandstorm was approaching. He’d spent long enough in the desert to know how to recognize one, and he knew enough about them on how to avoid letting them become fatal. The easiest way was to be elsewhere, but when that was not an option there were solutions.

Ben took no move to save himself as the storm swept over him.

The sun was swallowed, the sand ripping into his body.

The one thought Ben wanted to escape from the most came back full force in what he knew would be his dying moments.

He hadn’t been fast enough to save Luke. He hadn’t even been _around_. He’d been gallivanting the wastes like a fool while Luke and family were burned to death.

_I’m so sorry I failed you, Luke._

 

* * *

 

Half buried in sand, Ben woke up confused. Aside from the initial barrage, he felt overall uninjured. He wasn’t sure how he survived. More importantly, he wasn’t sure _why_ he survived.

Still, there was nothing for it. It took him awhile to dig himself out, but he was wandering the wastes again before the suns had set. He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t just lied down and died there- that had been his original intention involving the sandstorm.

Now though, he felt a prodding of sorts to keep moving.

Strange for the Force to remember him only after he failed. Still, he was a servant of the Force, former Jedi or not, and so he followed the currents that lead him.

The suns set, he grew cold, and he didn’t care. The worst ( _perhaps the best_ ) thing that could happen is death by hypothermia.

The suns rose, he was tired, and he didn’t care. Sleep wouldn’t help his tiredness anymore. He hadn’t felt alive since Mustafar, he hadn’t felt awake since his hair turned grey.

He wasn’t sure how long he wandered.

There was a hut off in the distance. A few huts.

He recognized it as a Tusken village.

_/A stranger!/_  A robed figure called as he approached.

Even as more Tusken appeared and leveled their weapons at him, he smiled. He held out his hand, brought it to his chest, and bowed his head for a few moments. A greeting gesture among the Tusken.

_/I mean no harm,/_ he said in slightly accented Tusken.

The Sand People looked at one another and shot off a few comments about being wary. They went quite as one tall Tusken stood above the rest and addressed Ben.

_/Very rarely do one of your kind learn our tongue. Tell me, why do you come to our village?/_

_/Trade,/_ he lied. At least the bantha furs he had collected would serve their purpose now. It was a bit sad to be jealous of furs.

The hostility in the air dried up like water in the twin suns. _/Then come! We shall trade./_

The leader lead him towards one of the larger tents, but Ben stopped before he reached it.

He heard the quiet sobs of a human woman.

He grit his teeth. He realized that the situation was suddenly very delicate if he wanted things to go well. He turned to the chief. _/I wish to see the human you have held here,/_ he said. _/For trade./_

What he found was exactly what he expected. It wasn’t the first time he had been trading with Tuskens only to find some poor person that the Sand People decided they did not like.

The woman had been tortured, likely multiple times.

_/How long have you had this woman?/_ he asked, keeping the rage building out of his voice.

_/Not long. Some sunsets, but not many. She is strong, but her Mate gathers our water. We needed to teach them a lesson, and so we have./_

Ben wasn’t surprised. The woman was the wife of a moisture farmer, and the Tusken wanted the farmer to leave. Water was sacred to the Sand People, and moisture farmers broke at least half of their tenants. Not to mention most shot first, talked never.

The woman was weak, but not so weak that she wasn’t awoken by the sound of voices. She eyed Ben warily, but remained silent.

Ben took off his pack, and removed the stack of bantha furs that he had strapped to the back. He held them out to the Leader. _/For the woman./_

He knew the furs would work, and he knew he was giving the Tusken a very generous deal. Bantha were sacred to the Tusken, second only to water itself.

The Tusken leader took the furs and examined them. _/These furs were taken from an old beast./_

_/Yes. I do not kill Bantha. I care much for them. Nara met her time from old age,/_ Ben said. He was a little sad to be giving up Nara’s pelt, but she was gone and the woman in front of him wasn’t.

The Tusken looked at him for what felt like a very long time, before accepting the gift. / _Never have I met a Bare-Walker that has respected Bantha,/_ the Tusken patted the furs, _/We of the Sand know much of Bantha, and I feel this one was well loved. You have my respect. You may take the woman./_

Ben was grateful, but knew he needed to dig a little further. He dipped his head. _/I am honored, but I must ask for more. I ask that you do not harm this woman’s family, unless they strike first./_

The Tusken seemed to consider this. _/Only because you are Bantha-loved. But should we be attacked, we will hold back no longer./_

Ben nodded his head in agreement, glad negotiations went so well. _/Understood./_

His eyes shifted to the woman. He knelt down in front of her. She stared at him with hard eyes.

“I have negotiated your release,” He says.

He eyes widen in surprise before narrowing. He mouth opens and croaks before she coughs. Then she tries again, despite her dry throat. “I will be no one’s slave.” She says.

His eyes crinkle in a smile. “Good. I hate slavery too. Now, can you walk?”

The woman is still suspicious, but with Ben’s help they walk out of the village.

It’s easy to find where the woman lives, because Ben knows this road. His stomach does a turn at how familiar the path it.

He comes to the Lars homestead. It’s smaller than he knows it to be. More importantly, it’s not burnt to the ground.

“Shmi!” A man calls rushing out of the house. He takes the woman from Ben’s arms and holds her closely. “Shmi, my dear, are you ok? You’re hurt! Quick, let’s get you into the house.” The man ushers the woman -Shmi- into the house.

Ben was not sure what to do now. As fleeting as it had been, the small urging from the Force was gone again. He tried not to despair at the fact that the only guidance he’d felt in over a decade was gone so quickly.

A younger face comes out of the hovel, one that Ben recognizes.

“Sir, please come in! Please, you brought my step-mother back from those savages, you must be so tired.”

And Ben is. Tired, that is. Confused as well at the young ( _far too young)_ face of Owen Lars, but more than anything he is so tired.

So he accepts the hospitality, and passes out the moment he sits down.

The scent of the home gives him a nostalgic nudge, and he falls asleep thinking of Luke.

  
  


Far away, just leaving Naboo, a young man with the weight of the galaxy on his shoulders ( _a terrified son_ ) speeds towards Tatooine.

**Author's Note:**

> The first chapter here is a bit short, but I'm hoping it'll give me inspiration to do the whole thing. Expect more chapters to come at some point. Cheers!
> 
> For the record, about half of the Tusken culture in this is canon and half is made up. Also- Nara is a real Bantha that Obi-Wan befriended on his time on Tatooine! Apparently he spent a lot of time hanging around Banthas (because he was super lonely.) 
> 
> Inspiration for this story came primarily from this statue here, if anyone was interested:  
> https://www.sideshowtoy.com/collectibles/star-wars-ben-kenobi-mythos-sideshow-collectibles-200108/


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